A Glut of Radishes? Try Radish Top Soup with Tempura Radish Croutons

What can I do with a Radish Glut? My garden is over-grown with radishes - I planted a row of seeds together, not really thinking about what would happen when, 8 weeks later, I would be inundated! You can't keep them, chutney them, like you can most other gluts, so what's a girl to do!?

Chatting to my dad earlier, he told me I could eat the tops in a salad, but to be very careful as they can sting... but unfortunately, I'm not a fan of food that hurts but I got to thinking. You can make nettle soup, so why not Radish Top Soup? It's worth a try right? I won't be using part of the radish I planted the seeds for, but it's better than nothing? So I ran into my garden, pulled up a load of radishes and got to creating this smooth, peppery soup, reminiscent of watercress soup but much more flavourful. It really is lovely. It needs a fair it of seasoning to bring out the earthy taste, but my word, it's delicious, and made from something that you'd normally throw into the compost bin! I'm just sad I threw so many tops away before I realised what a joy these leaves could be.

But then I was left with 6 little red cherry like bulbs of tender peppery-ness; I couldn't throw them away, couldn't face chewing on yet another radish just because it was there and needed eating; it was raining outside and I didn't fancy a salad for lunch. I thought about slicing them and sprinkling them over the soup... a bit boring though.

My eyes fell on the bag of flour I had out for the pastry I was making afterwards and, ding! light bulb moment, inspiration struck for Tempura Radish Croutons, a little bit of crunch on top and none of the plant wasted - perfect!

Great hot as a starter or at room temperature as an amuse bouche served in a shot glass (in this case without the tempura - good thinking hubby).

So here we go; Radish Top Soup with Tempura Radish Croutons (hubs wants to call this soup Radish-tastic - thoughts? Please let me know what you think in the comment box!).

Radish Top Soup with Tempura Radish Croutons

By the time i got this outside for the photo, the Radish
Tempura had begun sunk, but it looked lovely!

For the soup

Don't worry, I washed the
mud off the radishes!

• 35g butter
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 onion, roughly chopped
• 2 potatoes, roughly chopped
• 1 litre of chicken or vegetable stock
• 150g radish tops (this for me was 6 radishes)
• 1 tbsp creme fraiche or cream (optional but really tasty)
• Salt and Pepper to taste

For the Radish Tempura

• Radishes from the radish tops, sliced
• 100g plain flour
• 1 egg
• 100ml ice cold water
• Pan with 1-1.5inches of hot sunflower oil, about 180 degrees centigrade

1.In a large pan, heat the oil and the butter on a medium heat and add the onions, sweating them from 5-10 minutes until they start to go translucent.

2. Add the potatoes and coat in the butter and oil, and leave to cook for 5 minutes.

3. Pour the stock over the onions and potatoes and bring to the boil.

4. Add the Radish Tops, bring to a simmer, and leave to simmer for 10-15 minutes until the potatoes are tender.

5. Blend until smooth, then add salt and pepper to taste. Stir in the cream, keep warm.

6. Mix the egg and water, together, and pour into the flour. The water must be ice cold to keep the batter light. Mix into the flour briefly; do not over mix, it doesn't matter if it is lumpy.

7. Dip your radish slices into the batter, covering the slice and drop into the hot oil. If it sinks to the bottom, the oil is too hot, or too cold.

8. Leave until the batter is golden brown (about 4 minutes), drain on kitchen paper.

9. To serve your soup in bowls, swirl with single cream and top with radish croutons.  To serve as an amuse bouche, serve in a shot glass with a radish (complete with top).

If you have any tempura batter left over, it won't keep, so grab some other veggies and fry away!  I had a courgette left over, hubby's favourite!

Enjoy!

The story of 131 Little Pink Sparkly Cakes. Never underestimate a professional!

I'm not a buttercream swirler. I've mentioned this before. I've dabbled, I've played, I've bought the nozzles, but it's just not me. I'm more rustic, a slap bang wallop kinda girl (just ask hubby - ahem). But when Cancer Research asked me to make some pink cakes to raise awareness for Race For Life (which, incidentally has fewer runners this year than ever before), I couldn't, wouldn't say no. Donating time is something I love to do and the ingredients never cost the earth. And I love to cook (ya think!?) and this is a great excuse, so said 'of course, when for? How many?'. The reply came 'Thursday (two days away) and 500'. Blimey! I couldn't do 500, I work full time, but my employers allow us to work from home, so I agreed to 100, getting them baked at lunchtime (2 x 24 hole tins and I'd be, and was, done in an hour) and iced at night (a big batch of buttercream and quick piping, I'll be done in an hour). HA!

So, feeling altogether altruistic, I baked my cakes, finished my work and got down to the task of making the buttercream. A doddle. 

Now, it's been a while since I made buttercream and it conveniently slipped my mind how icing sugar gets everwhere. Everywhere. Floor, ceiling, hair, eyes, nails, nose, toaster, cats. Really. However, I took a deep breath (choking on the stuff at the time), cracked on and whizzed my way to a perfectly smooth, creamy, bright pink, strawberry flavoured cream. Nozzle in, piping bag at the ready and I created my first swirl. Wrong nozzle. Buttercream and nozzle out, new nozzle in. Buttercream off original cake, ready to start again, I thought this was a good time to make some more to get ready. Clever girl I am, didn't wash the bowl out in between, new buttercream goes lumpy. Didn't realise, squeezed the bag of new, lumpy buttercream onto cake, lump of sugar stuck in nozzle, pink buttercream goes flying off in all directions. Hair, cupboards, shepherds pie ready to go in over for dinner, other cat, all covered in pink buttercream (cat likes it by the way).

Rant on twitter.

(Quick note. I have an open plan kitchen with a dining room. Cat was in dining room under a chair at the time. How? I mean.... how?).

So, start again with the buttercream, it goes well and I select the correct nozzle.  At last, we're away, 131 cakes creamed up with a sprinkling of edible glitter. What fun.  What pain.  

And then, the dilemma.  How to transport 131 tiny cakes to work, to be picked up from the lady at Cancer Research.  A quick question on Twitter, and I'm advised egg boxes will do the trick and my local deli obliged.  They look very quirky in their little egg box holes.

I now, after the trauma of this evening, have a new found respect for professional cupcake bakers, actually, for the decorators to be precise; the lady who normally does this for Cancer Research makes 500 at a time!  I'd be at my wits end swirling 500 times over - nuff respect!

Those shrewd mathematics amongst you will realise that 24 does not go into 131. Now, you see, I assigned myself as chief quality tester; we don't want to be putting people off running the Race for Life, so ate I 12 to make sure - I'm proud of my reserved nature (and threw one at the wall in frustration. This is now in the bin. And I have pink buttercream up the wall. Good thing hubby is out late tonight).

They tasted great. So good, that I've given the recipe for vanilla cupcakes from The Hummingbird Bakery below. The best recipe I've found, and because it only uses 1 egg and 40g butter, it's cheaper than most. The buttercream recipe is adapted slightly. The only downside to these cakes is that they don't come away cleanly from the cases, but they are so good that I'll forgive them this little misgiving.

Now back to cleaning the dining room carpet....

Vanilla Cupcakes with a simple Strawberry Buttercream topping

131 little treats for the people of Liverpool.  Yummy.
Not a great picture, but carting them into natural light now may be the end of me.

Makes enough for 12 cupcakes or 24 mini cupcakes.

• 120g plain flour
• 140g caster sugar
• 40g unsalted butter
• 1.5 tsp baking powder
• Pinch of salt
• 120ml whole milk
• 1 egg
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

For the Buttercream

• 250g icing sugar
• 85g unsalted butter
• 2 tbsp whole milk
• Strawberry flavouring (couple of drops to taste, or other flavouring)
• Pink gel food colouring (or other colouring)

1. Line the tins with cupcake cases and Pre-heat your oven to 180.

2. Using the paddle attachment on your mixer, combine the flour, sugar, butter, baking powder and salt on a low speed until it is a rubbly, crumbly texture.

3. Add half of the milk with the mixer still running.

4. In a separate bowl, mix the rest of the milk with the egg and vanilla. Once the flour mixture and milk is combined, add the egg mixture and mix on a medium speed until combined and smooth. Do not over mix of your cake will be heavy.

5. Bake for 20-25 mins for cupcakes, or 10-12 mins for mini cupcakes.

6. Remove from the oven and allow to cool on a wire rack.

7. Whilst your cakes are cooling, make the buttercream. Sift the icing sugar into a mixer and, using the paddle attachment on a very low speed, mix with the butter until combined. Prepared to be covered.

8. Add the milk and flavouring and whizz on a high speed for 5 minutes to ensure you get light and fluffy buttercream. Add a little colouring half way through, adding more as you go for higher intensity of colour (taste here too to see if you need more flavouring).

9. Spread, swirl, swipe or slip your buttercream onto your cakes.

Enjoy!


P.S - Thanks to Laura's Little Bakery for the opportunity to do this.

Black Pepper Meringue with Strawberries and Cream

We all know about the classic black pepper and strawberry combination, the delicious sweet juicy strawberries combined with hot, spicy, coarsely ground black pepper; the conflicting tastes with conflicting sensation; the crunch of the pepper, the soft strawberry, juice running down your chin. The perfect introduction to summer, before it gets really warm and all you want are the delicious red berries plucked straight from plant.

With summer hitting those of us quite unexpectedly and square in the mouth, I decided it was time to celebrate with a glass of champagne with the neighbours (get us; actually, the main reason was their daughter getting into a very good, highly competitive school - you go girl!), followed by a taste of summer. But I wanted a dessert, not something to nibble on. So, I took the classic combination and merged with another classic - strawberries, cream and meringue and, by just adding a teaspoon (or more, to taste) to a simple meringue, you get a smart dessert that assaults the senses and and allows you to revel in the delight of your guests at being so smart to combine the two. And, if you aren't so keen on the punch of the pepper, this gives the taste whilst keeping it sweet.

Now, before I give the recipe, I have to fess up to two things here.

1. I forgot to take it to the neighbours with me. I had every intention and completely forgot. I kept thinking, 'I must go and get the meringue', but alas, they poured another glass of something sparkly and I just forgot. Whoops (if you are reading this J&J, I promise I'll bring it next time).

2. I meant to macerate the strawberries in balsamic vinegar, or add orange zest, but I had one glass too many and just gobbled the lot once I got in, without strawberry consideration. This also accounts for the less than impressive, very un-styled photography (what's my excuse the rest of the time eh?). But actually, I think by leaving the strawberries au naturel you really get the simple pleasure of the strawberry/black pepper combo.  The colours were just stunning, but I didn't do a great job of showing it off.  Well, you'll just have to try it and see for yourself!

As an aside - this is my favouite, simple meringue recipe, without the pepper, and works everytime. Try swirling some pink food colouring, with a toothpick, through the meringue once piled onto the baking sheet, before baking. Doesnt add to the taste but looks fabulous served with berries.

So, here it is - Black Pepper Meringue with Strawberries and Cream

• 4 Egg whites (save the yolks for deliciously rich scrambled eggs the next morning)
• 1/4 tsp cream of tartar
• 150g caster sugar
• 1-2 tsp of black pepper to taste (I go more towards 2tsp, sometimes even more).
• Strawberries
• Double cream
• Icing sugar to taste

1. Preheat your oven to 120. If you want to be precise, draw 6-8 circles on baking paper and place on a baking tray, pencil mark down. To be honest, I rarely bother with this as I love the rustic look.

2. Whisk the egg whites on slow speed until they begin to foam. Add the cream of tartar.

3. Increase the speed to medium, and with the mixer on, add the sugar slowly. Increase the speed to medium-high and keep going until you have a think shiny, shaving foam like meringue. It will be at stiff peak (when you pull the whisk away the mixture will stand to attention and not flop over).

4. Your meringue is now done. Add the pepper and give it one last whizz to distribute.

5. Pipe or pile your merangue on the paper, inside the circles you drew if using. If you pile in, make a dent in the middle with the back of a spoon for your cream to nestle in.

6. Bake in the oven for 2 hours. After this time, the meringues should peel away cleaning from the baking paper. If not, give it another 15 minutes and check again.

7. Turn off the oven and leave inside until the meringues are cool.

8. When you are ready to serve, whisk the cream to soft peak, dollop onto your cool meringues and top with strawberries (and caster sugar if you have a sweet tooth. If you have a very sweet tooth, add icing sugar to taste to your cream before whipping).

Enjoy!

Sowing Sunday Week 6

Don't the weeks go by so fast? I can't believe I'm writing week 6.

My Radishes!

Quite a lot has happened in my garden this week. I've been eating radishes, chilli's and lettuce by the truckload, it's a good thing that they are actually good for you! I have to admit, I still get a thrill plucking a radish from the earth, rinsing it off and popping it in my mouth like a savoury peppery cherry, and comparing it to the white and long varieties I'm growing too. And then to grab salad that's not been washed in chemicals and sat in a bag under flourescent lights for a month... well you can't beat it. I did find out that if you leave radishes out for a day, they shrivel like currents - this only leaves me feeling more smug - look how natural they are, I shouted with glee, pointing happily at my shrivelled salad vegetables. Very satisfying, there's nothing quite like it.

To avoid salad and radish monotonicity, I'm going to come up with a recipe that's a little out of the ordinary this week to keep the fun of picking the salad alive and well (especially since I planted some more lettuce in my guttering and the rain and sun combo means they have started to pop through already!)

Where the radishes have come up, I've been replacing them with more carrots and beetroot.

Sadly, I had my first garden casualty this week. Bye bye cucumber. I was going to take a picture but it felt quite morbid. Perhaps it went outside too early. Perhaps it had too much water. Maybe it didnt like the wind. I don't know, but it's not there any more, but it's in a nicer place now, in the compost bin on it's way to creating a loving home for new seedlings next year.

Very exciting news. I have courgette flowers! Two to be precise but I know there are more to come. I'm hoping they will show their sunny selves by next weekend for a courgette risotto I've seen a recipe for.... watch this space.

Courgette Flower

Runner Beans
(with Broad Beans in the troughs)

In other news, the broad beans from my mystery sprouting box are 6" high, and the runner beans are spiralling 4 foot high reaching for the sun each day. Sadly, one of my dwarf bean seedlings shrivelled, but the other two are going strong. I've only had 2 come up from 10 planted, and I have no idea why - any thoughts, garden fans?

Finally, I had to resort to slug pellets around the bottom of my blueberry bush. They've worked but every time I see those baby blue pellets, I feel a horrible guilt. But I'm sure once I taste my first blueberry that'll all disappear in a flash (fickle, moi?)

Before I sign off, I've been taking pictures of my garden from the same spot each week (the view of the troughs my dad and I built).  Just look how things have changed in 5 weeks!

Week 1

Week 6 - What a difference 5 weeks makes

Until next time....

Dinner Parties Made Easy at The Cheshire Cookery School – A Review

It's the middle of 2010, and I'm googling ‘Cookery Schools Cheshire’ to try and find a cookery course that would not require expensive trips to London and B&B accommodation.  I was given a very disappointing list in return, except for glimmer of hope that lifted my heart – ‘Opening soon, Cheshire Cookery School, Altrincham, Cheshire’. Hallelujah! At last, somewhere for us North West foodies to retreat and to learn!

I waited with baited breath for the opening and in March, I found myself signing up to ‘Dinner Parties Made Easy’ on 5th May, for the princely sum of £75.

The Cheshire Cookery School - not as expected,
but wait till you get inside

Knowing the school was in Altrincham, I stupidly expected a Victorian building in lush grounds, but as I pulled up to The Cheshire Cookery School, an hour early not really knowing what to expect, I drove into what could only be described on first glance, as an industrial estate. I double checked (and re-checked again) my sat nav and my confirmation letter – this couldn’t be right, surely? Every cookery school I’d been to was either a modern establishment in Central London, a converted barn in the country side, or in peoples home, restaurant or shop kitchens. I checked again - the school was inside COD Electricals. Not as expected, but, as I was to discover, there was a culinary good time lay behind those doors.

I entered the school through a kitchen showroom (alas, COD Electricals) that made me weep with longing; none of your Cooke & Lewis at B&Q, oh no, these were granite, gadget and glory filled kitchens, the things dreams are made of (at least mine are anyway).  After being greeted by two very friendly salesmen, I made my way through the showroom-of-dreams into the schools demonstration area – a black granite and shining chrome sight to behold. At that point I didn’t want to leave and could quite happily have spent my days there. I was distracted from the fully loaded champagne rack I was drooling over by the sound of voices chatting enthusiastically, and followed a distinctly Mancunian accent to find Jason Palin, Chef Director, chatting away with Claire, Cheese Extraordinaire, in the schools kitchens (more on this in a later post, but for now, please, please go out and buy Burt’s Cheese. Hey, that rhymes). 

The Demonstration kitchen

Feeling shy and being very early, I loitered by the rows of champagne bottles (a good place for me to be.  I felt content, warm, happy.  Anyway).  Jason sounded so friendly that I went in and introduced myself. I was greeted with a kiss like a long lost friend and, after being offered a cup of tea (or something stronger?), Jason and I sat down to chat about food, the school and life in general.

It became clear that The Cheshire Cookery School is the realization of a dream and an extension of a family kitchen business ran by Andrew Warnes, whose father started the business before him. A foodie himself, Andrew saw the opportunity to create something special in what use to be the unused area of the kitchen showroom and has since created a magnificent space to be enjoyed by all who cross the threshold.  The kitchen showroom and industrial frontage made sense now, an asset even.  Jason, a regular face on the North West foodie scene, joined the school from day one and helped create the open, friendly, relaxed atmosphere with his open, friendly, relaxed personality. 

Jason Palin - Chef Director at
The Cheshire Cookery School

Jason has cooked in some 42 countries and managed to name drop Raymond Blanc’s legendary Le Manoir Aux Quatre Saison as a kitchen he's worked in without a hint of arrogance (surely a little would be allowed) – I was impressed. He also represents Roberts Bakery at the annual Cheshire Show, designed all the recipes featured in the bakery’s 2011 calendar and is on the judging panel for Roberts Bakery competition to win a lifetimes supply of bread, to be judged at the Cheshire Show. 

The School Kitchen

As Poppy, Andrew’s angelic daughter (who can’t be more that 6 years old) directed guests who’d lost their way and handed out aprons, Jason chatted to me about his love of teaching and creating dinner parties in people’s homes, indulging me in amusing stories of situations he’d found himself in. (I’d love to repeat some here but I’d hate to incriminate anyone – perhaps you should book yourself a place to hear the tales first hand!).  My nerves had disappeared.  Jason has a way of relaxing attendees the second they step through the door - maybe it's his ever pleasant giggle (I wish I could put it in a jar to open up when I feel sad).

As the seven other attendees (a mixture of men and women of all ages) were greeted and settled in with tea, coffee and wine, Jason began by explaining that his classes were designed to be relaxed, fun, friendly and, most importantly without pressure.  In Jason's opinion, pressured, stressful environments create bad food and bad atmosphere – I couldn't agree more, a man after my own heart. Jason asked us to treat the kitchens as our own, using the facilities as we pleased and helping ourselves to wine; I didn’t need to be asked twice – this is clearly my kind of school!  But I didn’t need to get the wine, the wine was brought to me as Alexander, Andrews son, couldn't have been more attentive, bringing wine and taking away dirty pots. Hmm, I wonder if I could kidnap him to come to my house?  

So far, The Cheshire Cookery School had managed that unique combination of the standards of a well appointed, professional Cookery School with the warm, friendly, relaxed nature of a family ran foodie home business. It was going well and I had a huge smile on my face, like the one I get every time I’m in a kitchen, only brighter and wider thanks to the beautiful kitchens and friendliness the of the people.

With the pop of a cork on a bottle of white, we got down to work, creating a simple but stunning three course meal that we could enjoy together at the end of the evening: 

• Pea Soup with Burts Cheese Crumble 
• Roast Salmon with Caper Butter,Haricot Bean Puree and Crispy Basil Leaves 
• Lemon Syllabub with Shortbread Biscuits.

Dinner Parties Made Easy is definitely a beginners course and the menu was simple enough to re-create at home. Jason demonstrated his cheffy-expertise by showing us dishes that looked like they took hours to make, when in fact, they were decidedly easy.  He showed us the tricks of presentation, which for me was the highlight.

Jason and cookery school attendee June frying basil leaves

As Jason first demonstrated how to make the dishes, he peppered his pre-amble with amusing anecdotes of celebrity chefs he knows, in particular those who make guest appearances at the School, including Simon Rimmer (I used the salt he left behind – swoooon) and Aiden Bryne. 

Once Jason had done his thing, it was time to do ours. Jason managed to strike the perfect balance between being a helpful teacher and letting us try out for ourselves. Save for a few minor disasters that Jason quickly put right, everyone’s confidence soared and we were bouncing around the kitchen like expletives from Gordon Ramsey; in all directions and full of passion.

Cookery School attendees on the go
(although four seem to have wandered off with Jason)!

My personal favorite from the evenings dishes was the Lemon Syllabub, closely followed by Pea Soup (an eternal favorite of mine that I personally leave chunky and eat with chunks of fish fingers as croutons, in front of the TV on a cold night); it wasn’t so much the recipes themselves, it was the alternative flavor and decoration ideas that Jason gave to make these dishes dinner-party-special.

When making the pea soup, Jason gave us the recipe for parmesan crisps to serve alongside, but also demonstrated Burt’s Crumble. To make, mix a crumbled slab of Burt’s Cheese (or any Blue Cheese) with a tablespoon or two of wholemeal flour with your fingertips, to create a chunky, rubbly crumble.  Dry fry the crumble over a low heat until you have cooked away all of the floury taste, but the cheese isn’t melting. Leave to cool slightly and sprinkle over your soup before serving.

For the syllabub, as well as discussing different flavour ideas (my favouite being lemongrass), Jason talked us through how to make candied lemon peel. Pare strips of zest from 2 unwaxed lemons and cut into thin strips. Place in a saucepan with about 100mls water and a tablespoon of sugar. Bring to the boil, turn off the heat and leave to cool. You will be left with candied lemon peel in a lemon syrup. Drizzle the syrup over the top of the Syllabub's with the tip of a teaspoon  and top with a few slices of the peel. This little garnish took the syllabub from nearly sickly to very, very refreshing.

As the evening began to wind down and pans were being cleared (by the ever wonderful Alexander – I need one at home!), the sound of excited chatter, pans clanging and blenders whizzing lapsed into the sounds of murmured appreciation, cutlery on plates and wine sipped from glasses as we took our lovingly prepared three course meal to the dining room, allowing us to indulge while Jason entertained us with stories of foodie travels around India and Italy. 

Enjoying dinner

As we folded our new (and now food-splattered) aprons into our bags, we said our thank you’s and good-bye’s and vowed to spend another evening in Jason’s company at the School in the not to distant future. The atmosphere was one of satisfied cooks who had had a great evening in this gem of a Cookery School.  I can't wait to go back and a must for any Northern based foodies.

For details of courses at The Cheshire Cookery School, please click here
I paid to attend the Cookery School for my own enjoyment and all opinions are my own

Cheesy Courgette Breakfast Muffins

For the first time, I have decided to take part in Fuss Free Flavours Breakfast Club, mainly because this is the first time I've come across it.  This month, #11, has a theme of 'Vegetarian and Savoury', as set by Green Gourmet Giraffe. An interesting one for me as my ideal breakfasts are either a stonking great big bacon buttie smothered in butter and tomato ketchup, or blueberry pancakes covered, drenched in fact, in maple syrup. But I do like a challenge.

So I got to thinking.  I've found my self pondering veggie and savoury breakfasts at all hours of the day (obsessive?  Moi?), but finding a problem with each idea. I thought about (and tried - oh the things we do for our blogs!) soft boiled eggs with early British asparagus dippers - but that's hardly a recipe; cheesy french toast with vine roasted tomatoes - but I couldn't have this without parma ham; Sweet potato rosti with roasted tomatoes - likewise, but bacon; Baked eggs with spicy tomato - but Green Gourmet Giraffe isn't keen on eggs so it didnt seem fair.

If I'm on the move, a croissant or blueberry muffin is my weapon of choice for breakfast, so I started thinking about savoury muffins. If I'm going to think about and create a new recipe, it has to be something my family will also want to eat, and they are fully fledged carnivores.  With this in mind, it had to suit both sides of the fence. I had a route around in my fridge and, to my delight found the right ingredients for these light yet filling muffins, that I'm sure contain one of your 5-a-day (wishful thinking?) and would be delicious on their own, with smoked salmon, with bacon or, in the case of the Breakfast Club Theme, a swipe of cream cheese and a sprinkling of black pepper.


Enough to turn me veggie?  Well, it's turned me savoury in the mornings and that's no mean feat.

Cheesy Courgette Breakfast Scones

• 220g plain flour
• 1.1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 60g butter, melted
• 1 egg
• 250ml milk
• 1 medium courgette, about 200g, grated
• 80g grated cheddar cheese
• 30g grated parmesan cheese
• 1 tbsp chopped parsley
• 1 tbsp chopped thyme leaves

1. Pre-heat the oven to 180 and wipe a none stick muffin tray with a slick of oil. (I tried this recipe lining the muffin tin with paper cases, as per the picture, and without. The mixture sticks to the paper so don't do it now!)

2. Mix the flour, baking powder, bicarbinate of soda and salt in a bowl.

3. In a separate, larger bowl, lightly whisk the egg then mix in the melted butter, milk, and courgette until combined.

4. Stir in the flour and mix until just combined but still lumpy and finally stir in the cheeses and herbs.

5. Spoon into the cake tin and bake for 30-35 minutes until golden and springy to the touch. Leave to cool slightly and eat warm. These can be warmed through another day and can be refrigerated.

I've frozen a few and will let you know how they are once defrosted and warmed through.

Enjoy!

Bloggers Bake for Hope

I've spent a small fortune supporting fantastic causes recently (and don't regret a penny of it), and have had some fabulous deliveries in the post, posh salt and maple syrup to name just two.  But I've decided it's about time to get my bake on and put my own wares up for sale in the Bloggers Bake for Hope virtual bake sale to raise money for Massachusetts Komen For the Cure, who are striving to find for a cure for cancer. 

My offering had to be something I could ship worldwide - that would stand rough post handlers and the time it takes to get something across the world in snail mail. I had to be able to tailor it to taste for the winner. My choices, therefore, were limited but I came up with the goods with my Gorgeously Good Granola.

I will be sending a huge portion of this delicious cereal as well as the recipe and hopefully a surprise treat (this all depends on how my trial postage goes this week!) to the winning bidder.  All items will appear on this blog at 12:01 (EST) on Wednesday, May 4th. If you would like to bid on the Granola, please leave a comment with the dollar amount you would like to bid. All bidding will start at $15.  There are so many worthwhile charities out there, but I can't think of anyone who hasn't been touched by cancer in one way or another.  Please, get involved and give generously.  Looking forward to sending you some fruity, nutty crunchy delights through the post very soon.

Sowing Sunday Week 5…. On a Monday

With holidays in Cuba, Royal Weddings, Street Parties, Barbeques, Birthday Parties, the days just ran away with me and it didn’t really occur to me until late last night that it was Sunday night and that I hadn’t posted! And I didn’t post last week thanks to holiday in Cuba… it’s a hard life.

But now, I’m sitting on the blanket my grandma knitted for me with a nice hot coffee, in the sunshine. I’m in my teeny back garden surveying all that I’ve potted, planted, sewn, spoken to, breathed on and nurtured. And I’m feeling proud. Look just how much you can get from one small space! 

And this is just one small corner!

Runner beans, tomatoes,
courgette and cucumber

The runner beans my dad kicked off for me have started their ascent to the skies, twirling up the canes as they go. The tomatoes have ka-boomed in the last week since they were potted into larger homes and I have counted at least 200 buds on my strawberry plants. The cucumbers and courgettes don’t look too exciting yet, but I can’t wait for my first taste of sunshine yellow courgette flowers. 

I was very pleased to see that, after the second year, my blueberry plant has a few flowers, like little bluebells, but those pesky slugs have been at them. Help – does anyone know how to stop the little blighters in an organic friendly way? What’s a girl to do?

Yesterday I was chuffed as anything to snip a chilli from the plant (to use in my Carrot and Coriander salad with Maple Syrup and Lime) and to pull two small but perfectly formed cherry red radishes from the ground. Yes, I know if I left them they would be larger, but I couldn’t resist the first sweet but peppery taste of the summer. 

I’m really pleased to see flowers forming on my sage bush, attracting the bees as they hop from lavender to strawberry to sage. I need to find some local honey to complete the cycle!

I’m even more smug than usual (is it possible?); my lovely dad told me that my sowing of lettuce and spinach wouldn’t grow very well as they are too close together, and I was to transplant them into my large trough and hope for the best for the rest. Well, yesterday, I had to wave goodbye to the transplanted plants (an untimely end for the small leaves as they were snaffled by myself at 8am) as they didn’t seem to be doing too much and I basked in the triumph of my big pots of lettuce, rocket and spinach, resplendent in their bushiness, greens, reds and dark yellows wafting in the wind. To celebrate, myself and my 4 year old neighbour decided to sample some leafy delights, and we discovered that she doesn’t like the stalks and the red rosso leaves are her favourite. So now we know).   I even decided to have some for my lunch today.

The seedlings in the surprise box now have identities! Green beans (more!), radishes (even more!), broad beans (thankfully, I love them) and peas (ditto). There are a couple more little seed babies poking through and looking healthy. Oh, and I now have some dwarf beans, but only 3 of the 12 planted have broken through at the minute. I’m waiting with baited breath.

Last but certainly not least, I, with the help of a man with a power tool (I’m far to clumsy and prefer to potter), got creative, inspired by a picture in a magazine of three semi-circled planters to go up high on a wall to make the most of small gardens. They were £50 in the magazine – cue creativity. To me the planters looked just like guttering, so off to the hardware store I went and created my own, drilling holes in the bottom for drainage. Perfect for lettuce, which I planted this morning. What do you think to my (our) handy work? I’m feeling rather smug. Again.

I’m certain of a great harvest this summer. I’m feeling a recipe or two coming on.

Until next time….

Carrot and Coriander Salad with Maple Lime Dressing

I had a late night. The pesky white wine kept working it's way into my glass and I just wanted my bed and a lie in the next morning. I went to bed and, a pint of water later, fell into a deep restful sleep.

It was 7.30am, the sun was rising and my bed was comfy, my head ached a teeny bit - nothing I couldn't handle, when I was rudely awakened. Bang, bang, bang on the door. 'Who the hell is that at the door!' my head screamed. I rolled (yes, literally rolled) out of bed and looked out of the window.

Postie!

Headache cleared, sleepy fog lifted, either the fruits of my online shopping binge had arrived or my winning Bake Sale bid! And I hoped it was the latter.

Hopping like a crazy lady (did I mention the pint of water before bed), I chased postie down the road - we're talking Royal Mail here; the fact he arrived before midday was a miracle, I couldn't rightly expect him to stay for longer that 5 seconds, surely? I digress. I caught him. I got my package and wandered back into the house, placed it carefully it on the table while I made a cup of tea (after answering the call of nature - too much information?).

These really are the best kinds of days. Despite my grumbling, I soon cheered up and opened my parcel to find my goodies from Susan at The Spice Garden. You may have seen from previous posts that The Tomato Tart held an online Bake Sale for Second Harvest for Japan, raising over a staggering $8k! I bid on Susan's lot and won! Feeling rather pleased with myself, I tore open the packaging to find a box of home made maple fudge, a maple leaf (for coffee, I'm told), a jug of maple syrup, a magazine from Susan's area and a lovely note. All this from New Hampshire, USA straight to Cheshire, UK, from a lady I never knew until I started blogging. The power of the Internet never ceases to amaze me.

I'm ashamed to say that, even though I promised myself I would make it last, the ludicrous amount of fudge Susan sent was gone pretty quickly. It was so, so, so good. Crumbly but smooth, spicy but sweet, woody but floral. I couldn't leave it alone. Susan, I'm in awe.

This was about three weeks ago and ever since, I've been waiting for the right moment and recipe to show off the maple syrup. I didn't want to use it on pancakes - it is too special; I didn't want to cook it - it is too pure. No, it needed to be used raw, fresh and so you knew it was there, you just couldn't put your finger on the smoky but sweet taste. The moment arrived yesterday when my fabulous neighbours came for a barbeque to make the most of our early (and probably only) summer, in the shape of a Carrot and Coriander Salad with Maple Lime Dressing.

This little salad worked perfectly with the smokey barbequed meat. The sweetness of the syrup contrasted with the zingy lime, both of which take the heat from and complement the spiciness of the chilli. This dressing, poured over a classic carrot, corriander and cashew salad is really special. Carrots and maple syrup are a classic combination and this paring steals the show in this side dish that stands front and centre.

Thanks Susan, this was the best package I've received in a long time

Carrot and Coriander Salad with Maple Lime Dressing

Serves 8 as a side with other salads.

• 2 tbsp lime juice
• 1 tbsp maple syrup
• Half red chilli, de-seeded and finely chopped
• 400g grated carrot
• two pints boiling water
• Large bunch coriander, leaves torn
• 3 tbsp toasted cashew nuts, broken into pieces

1. In a small bowl, whisk the lime juice, maple syrup and chilli with a fork.

2. Place the carrot in a colander and pour the boiling water over and then rinse with cold. Drain very well, and gently squeeze the carrot to remove any remaining water.

3. Toss the coriander and cashew nuts with the carrot in a large bowl. Pour over the dressing and toss with a spoon to dress. Serve at room temperature.

Enjoy!

P.S. On Wednesday my lot on Bloggers Bake for Hope goes on sale to raise money for  Massachusetts Komen for the Cure.  I tried to find something I could post to the US as the bake sale is held there and most likely that any winning bidder will be there too, so my Gorgeously Good Granola is up for grabs - please bid for a fantastic cause.

Review - Two Greedy Italians by Antonio Carluccio and Gennaro Contaldo

Like the food I eat, I love to devour a cookbook in one sitting with a cup of tea (or a glass of wine on a sunny day like today). I like to read it from cover to cover, taking in every picture, every word, every description.  I make lists of what I'll make, and read out ingredients of my favourite recipes to my husband, trying to encourage him to be as inspired as I am. It rarely happens that he gets excited over a cookbook, but he was ooh-ing and aah-ing over some of the recipes in this book as much as I was, the Lonza al Miele E Zenzero (Pork Fillet with Honey and Ginger) in particular.  But I couldn’t read it in one go.  I tried, I really did, but in addition to over 100 recipes, the descriptions of the life and times of Italy in the modern, multi cultural world are enthralling.  You get the impression that Carluccio and Contaldo were made to re-discover their beloved Italy (perhaps the fee for the accompanying BBC series helped) and were quite surprise at what they found – a Country that was no longer fed by Mamma, chained to the stove all day; a country that no longer sneered at food that wasn't made from Italian ingredients; a country that no longer made fun of fast, convenient ingredients. They found a modern Italy embracing the fusions, flavours and fun of real, modern food. 

Two Greedy Italians
by Antonio Carluccio and Gennaro Contaldo 
Published by Quadrille, Photography ©CHRIS TERRY

No soggy carbonara, limp tomato crostini or bland panna cotta to be seen here, this is a book that leaps away from the normal and regular to bring us real, regional Italian food, unusual enough to make this book interesting, simple enough to not terrify the life out of a home cook. 

The descriptions and background on Italian rituals, history and ingredients, interspersed with recipes that relate back so well is a captivating mix.  The pre-amble  that introduces every recipe is a delight, helping the reader to understand why that recipe made the cut for the book, making you want to re-create it with the passion intended by the pair.  With each recipe title translated into English and most with an accompanying picture, you really get a feel for a dish before the olive oil hits the pan.

An Italian cookbook wouldn’t be an Italian cookbook without a recipe for fresh pasta. Yes, we know it tastes better fresh (does it?) and yes, we know it’s the only way to get the tortellini you love, but these two Italian food lovers go on to say that most Italian households now only make fresh pasta on very special occasions, preferring the dried variety after a long day at work – and don’t we know it! As a tribute to this sentiment, only very special pasta recipes have been included, with Tagliatelle Al Vino Bianco con Funghi (Fresh White Wine Pasta Ribbons with Mushrooms) really capturing the imagination; taking the classic combination of garlicky, mixed wild mushrooms in white wine, and turning it on it's head - making the pasta with the wine and turning the ribbons in mixed wild and dried mushrooms slick with reduced white wine, olive oil, garlic and chilli. Not like-a Mamma used'ta make-a!  What could be better?  It's enough to make me want to dust off the pasta machine.

The overwhelming feel of this book is fresh, seasonal and unusual.  It's a book to read, digest and learn from. Shying away from traditional Italian cookbooks, this is a refreshing view focussing on the changing face of Italy, and therefore, Italian food;  What we finally have here is an Italian who (begrudgingly) appreciates that there are food influences outside of Italy! It’s a revelation! I sat, shocked, wine half way to mouth as I read the phrase ‘to make the recipe healthier’ in an Italian cookbook – do my eyes deceive me?

These two older gentlemen, (old friends they say, but I detect some rivalry if only from the cover), so intrinsically Italian, who I thought were stuck with the idealism of an Italy they left behind in the 1970’s, have managed to create a fresh, modern cookbook that is still steeped in tradition.  Now where's that pasta machine...


Quadrille Publishing kindly gave me a copy of this book for review, but all opinions are my own.